


Human Custom

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Figured you were going to be here.”<br/>“That’s a reason to come?”<br/>Meg downed her entire cup and rolled her eyes again.  “Whatever. I guess I don’t really have a reason to be here.”<br/>Castiel reached out and lay his hand on her shoulder.  “I am glad you came.”<br/>“Oh yeah?”<br/>“I am simply, unsure of their custom. Why is it so important to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol on a particular day at a particular time? Dean drinks quite a lot on a regular basis.”<br/>“It’s the New Year, Cas.”<br/>“Time is a construct of humanity’s desire to order the universe.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Custom

The motel room was packed. It was unclear how Dean and Sam had somehow managed to get everyone on their side who was still alive to gather together on one single night. Castiel was uncertain of the significance of that night. Sam, Dean, Kevin and Garth were huddled around a rickety table with the only four chairs in the motel room, playing poker and drinking. Meg and Castiel were standing off to the side observing the humans and commenting. Well, it was more Meg commenting and Castiel listening. 

“They didn’t really invite me you know.”

“How do you mean?”

“I was saving their bacon, and I happened to overhear Dean talking to Garth on the phone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Meg rolled her eyes and huffed. 

“You came anyway.”

“Not like I have anything better to do.”

“You don’t?”

Meg looked at him, scoffed, and walked away to the small kitchenette counter where a few bottles of various liquor sat. She poured several cups with different kinds and came back, passing one to Castiel. 

“Why did you come, Meg?”

“Figured you were going to be here.”

“That’s a reason to come?”

Meg downed her entire cup and rolled her eyes again. “Whatever. I guess I don’t really have a reason to be here.”

Castiel reached out and lay his hand on her shoulder. “I am glad you came.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I am simply, unsure of their custom. Why is it so important to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol on a particular day at a particular time? Dean drinks quite a lot on a regular basis.”

“It’s the New Year, Cas.”

“Time is a construct of humanity’s desire to order the universe.”

Meg narrowed her eyes at him, and went and poured herself another drink. Castiel finished his entire cup in a sip and walked to give it to her for a refill. Dean, Garth, Sam and Kevin were laughing and smacking down cards on the table. They had begun to remove their clothing, and although it appeared to be a sort of rule of the game which they were playing, Castiel was again uncertain of the origination and purpose of the human custom. 

“Humans see things in a line, Clarence.”

“How do you know?”

“Hello, demon? I used to be human once. It’s not like I remember all of it. But yeah, time was kind of a big deal.”

“Oh.”

“Hasn’t a lot happened last year?”

“Well, yes. More has happened in the last few years than in the last few eons of my existence.”

“So, the New Year celebration is like, a way to kind of catalogue what’s happened, separate the bad from the good, set goals for yourself for the next year.”

“Really?”

“Honestly, it’s kind of a load of crap, everyone is all serious about it for maybe a few months, then it gets forgotten.”

“So. Again, what is the purpose?”

“An excuse to drink, and party, and be stupid?”

“People do that all the time.”

“You’re missing the point, angel. It’s a socially acceptable, and fully condoned, time to get drunk and stupid.”

“I suppose.”

“Can you even get drunk?”

“If I have enough.”

Meg grinned at him, wide and predatorial. 

“Then tip it back and I’ll make you another.”

Castiel did as he was told, gulping the sugary sweet mix of fruit juices and alcohol. 

Meg leaned against the counter, crooking her hips and pushing her backside out as she mixed two more drinks for the two of them. Dean hollered for another bottle, and Meg screwed a cap on to one and tossed it at him. He scowled, then laughed, and turned back to his game. 

Meg made it a point to ply Castiel with liquor. She made him different drinks with different combinations and kept asking him what kind he liked. The overly sweet ones sat thick on his tongue, the overly bitter made him salivate excessively. 

Eventually, she found one that he quite liked. Castiel could feel the alcohol in his system, just a little, making the world more loose at the edges, more warm. He stood in the kitchenette with Meg since they kept consuming drinks so fast. Leaning back against the counter when his balance started to waiver, Castiel inched a little closer, a little closer, to the demon next to him. 

He smiled at her true face, the one with teeth and horns and bare stretches of smooth bone. She was lovely. Though her visage should be terrifying, he was fond of it. 

The poker table erupted into a riot of motion. Dean was shouting that it was almost time. Sam clicked on the staticky television in the corner where a man with a microphone was talking about a ball dropping. Garth and Kevin were stumbling to their feet looking around. 

Meg turned to him. 

“Almost time, big boy.”

“Time for what?”

“For the New Year.”

“What does that mean?”

“New beginnings and all that jazz.”

Castiel nodded and finished his current drink. Meg took the empty cup from him, and sidled close into the crook of his arm until their hips brushed. 

“You know, if you’re interested in human customs, it’s tradition to kiss someone when the new year hits.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“But, what about the others?”

“Let them do what they want, you’ve got a willing set of lips right here, Clarence.”

“When do we…..”

“When the ball drops.”

Meg nodded towards the television. Dean, Sam, Kevin and Garth were shuffling around the room in various states of undress - and not so sobriety. Castiel raised his arm to purposefully curl around Meg’s shoulders. They were counting down on the television, and Castiel surmised that he was meant to kiss her when the ball on the television dropped. He wasn’t certain what else she might mean, they didn’t have anything like that in their motel room. The place was strewn with confetti and empty liquor bottles, but sadly no ball. 

As the man on the television began a countdown from ten, Meg turned towards him and leaned up on her toes. She braced one hand on his shoulder. Her cheeks were flush with the alcohol, her wild brown hair tumbling over her shoulders and she had removed her jacket so her arms were bare. She was a small thing, he might say delicate but he knew the supernatural strength that lived in her. Still, Castiel could burn her out with a touch, yet she came closer. 

Tipping his head down, Castiel touched his lips to hers and everyone on the television were screaming. She pressed against him, licking at the seam of his lips, and both their eyes were still open watching each other. Castiel parted his mouth, let her in, moaning without meaning to as her tongue slid against his. 

She dropped down onto her heels, a grin on her lips, and Castiel might have pressed her back against the counter to entreat her for more but he was currently distracted with what was making her snicker. Looking out of the corner of his eyes to the main motel room, Kevin was jumping up on Sam kissing him, while Dean had Garth tipped down in a dip and a very enthusiastic kiss. 

Well. Human customs were interesting, Castiel could grant that.


End file.
